Choices, Command and Validation
by SGAFan
Summary: A trilogy of short stories surrounding the short, but compelling relationship between Everett and Sheppard. Forced to revisit his decision to kill Sumner, John takes a long look at what he'd done, and why.
1. Choices

**_Choices_**

_Takes place directly after Letters From Pegasus_

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**_"There isn't a night that goes by, when that image doesn't play back in my head. And every time it does…"_**

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John awoke with a start, his heart pounding and breath coming in gasps. Pulling in a deep breath, he let his head fall back on his pillow, willing his body to relax. Tangled in his feet, his blanket was pulled half off his body, allowing the cool night air to blow across the light sheen of sweat covering him. Slightly chilled, John sighed. He sat up, straightened the blankets and pulled them back over his legs. John rubbed his face, before running his hand through his hair and sighing again. A couple hours sleep. That was all he wanted…and apparently all he was getting. Pulling his knees up, John massaged the back of his neck, kneading the tense muscles. Fading in his memory, the tortured screams of Colonel Sumner still followed him…they always followed him. From that day on the Wraith ship, John had carried the weight of Sumner's death on his shoulders.

John rolled his head, feeling the tension begin to leave his neck. He'd never really gotten used to this. It's not like he had nightmares every night…occasionally was bad enough. But how could he get used to waking at night, the image of Colonel Sumner dying at the hands of the Wraith, burned in his head? He could still hear the Colonel's screams and still see his life being sucked away by the Wraith. Sumner had wanted Sheppard to kill him, John was sure of that, but not a day went by that he didn't think about that choice…and not a day went by that he didn't regret having to make it. John clenched his teeth in anger, his gaze fixed on the plain wall, barely visible in the dim moonlight.

John laid back down, his hands folded behind his head. Since the moment he pulled the trigger, firing the bullet that killed Sumner, he'd never second guessed himself…but that never quelled his regret. He hated the situation that drove him to do what he did, but more than that…he hated the Wraith for forcing him.

His entire career, John had prided himself in finding ways to turn the no win into a win situation, but against the Wraith all that changed. He'd led a team to that planet, confident with some luck and a little guts, Colonel Sumner, his men and the Athosians could all be rescued. His training had guided him, but quicker than he could react, John had found himself in a situation no training had prepared him for. Sure he never doubted his decision, but how, exactly, did he know he was right?

Because it's what he would've wanted.

John's anger dissolved, realization dawning on him. In Sumner's place, John would've wanted the same thing.

Death had been all that was facing the Colonel…and he'd known it. The measure of his death…the way he'd go…the way he'd choose to go, was the last defining act of his life. Having that choice, and making that choice between a lingering death and a quick one, gave Sumner back some control of his own fate.

And who was John to take that from him?

He sat up, threw off the covers and stood. That was thin…really thin. But he couldn't push the thought away. Deep in his gut, he knew what he'd done was right. His thoughts lingered on the mission briefings they'd managed to send back to the SGC. It was all detailed there…but the impersonal black and white words held no meaning. Whoever read it would only see that he'd executed his commanding officer.

John grabbed his pants off the nearby chair and stepped into them. Leaving them unzipped, he crossed the room and stared out his window at the moonlit silhouette of the city against the vast ocean beyond. If he ever returned to the SGC, he'd have to deal with the fallout of his actions. Even if he were cleared of any charges…right or wrong, John would still take heat for what he'd done.

He scratched his chest absently. It's bad enough to disobey orders, but to kill your commanding officer? That was something else entirely. His father had been very clear in his feelings about how John had destroyed his military career…and now John was starting to think he was right.

Abruptly, John chuckled, the irony of his thoughts striking a chord in him. The Wraith armada was less than a week away, and the likelihood of him surviving, much less ever seeing Earth again, was slim to none, and here he was, worrying about his military career? Ironic humor spread through him, and in spite of his gloom, he chuckled again.

Stepping away from his window, Sheppard looked at his clock. With less than an hour until he was going to get up anyway, John felt it pointless to go back to bed. He quickly dressed and grabbed his side arm.

John paused, his gaze settling on his messy bed. His mind returning to his nightmare, Sheppard drew in a deep breath. He may have made the right choice, but he still carried the regret with him…the ghost of Colonel Sumner…and that was something he'd square with the Wraith before this was all over. Determination fortified him, as he strapped his sidearm around his waist and exited his quarters.

**_…I realize what I did was right…and I hate the Wraith that much more for it._**

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_Author's notes: The first set of bolded lines is quoted directly from Siege II, the second set is my words…or rather what I believe Sheppard was going to say to Everett, but never had the chance._


	2. Command

**_Command_**

_During The Siege_

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Sheppard dashed up the stairs to the tower holding the Control Chair, his deep, fast breaths subduing the emotions that churned in him. Beyond the expected tension he felt in anticipation for the coming fight, John fought against anger, and frustration…hard on the heels of his unexpected conversation with Colonel Everett.

John had been blindsided by the Colonel. Things had started innocently enough, a history lesson on the war between the Wraith and the Ancients, and while Colonel Everett may have really wanted that information, he wasted no time getting to the real reason for pulling Sheppard aside. Alone in the Ancient hologram room, Everett could speak frankly, without muddying the chain of command in front of anyone else. And speak frankly he did.

Dashing up the next set of steps, John fought his stubborn anger, trying to push it away and focus on the coming battle. At least now he really knew where he stood with the Marine Colonel. Of all the officers that could've come to Atlantis, he had to be stuck with the one that was friends with Sumner. John was certain Everett had read the reports, and made up his mind about Sheppard before ever stepping through the Stargate.

Frustrated, John shook his head as he trotted down the long hallway to the next staircase. Things had happened exactly the way he'd feared. Impersonal and precise, the reports on his mission to save Sumner and his men were coldly accurate…and condemned John in their factuality.

His mind made up, Everett hadn't been interested in John's side…and no matter what he said, John couldn't have changed that. Everett hadn't been there…he hadn't looked into Sumner's eyes and known what needed to be done…but that didn't matter to the Colonel and all the arguing John could've done didn't matter. Not that he wouldn't have liked to try…but the Wraith stole his chance. Faced with imminent attack, Everett had ordered him to the Control Chair.

Ordered.

The word ground on him. Part of John chafed at taking orders again. He'd never asked to be in command, but it had been thrust upon him, and he'd been forced to step in. Once in command of Atlantis' military contingent, he'd grown used to it. No silly orders from pompous big wigs…no black marks following him. Here, it didn't matter if he'd disobeyed orders all that mattered was survival. They had to think on their feet, not stop to worry about who wanted what, or who's toes they'd be stepping on. It was an unorthodox way of doing things, at least by the military's standards, but Sheppard thrived in it.

John took a deep breath and started up the last staircase to the top of the tower. Sure the tension had been there in the beginning. He'd felt it. He would've been dense to miss it. It wasn't only Colonel Sumner that knew of his record. But he'd over come it. He'd stepped in and led the men…and they'd followed him. The arrival of Colonel Everett only reminded him of the military he'd left behind.

In spite of everything he was confident in, Colonel Everett's words haunted him.

_I wish for his sake, I was…_

Second guessing himself really was never Sheppard's style. It was something he rarely did. John cracked a wry smile. Flaw in his character? Maybe. But every decision he made, he believed he did for the right reasons…and accepted any consequences as a result of them.

But this was different. In straight terms, he'd executed his commanding officer. Was it the right thing to do? Absolutely. When he'd stared Colonel Sumner in the eyes, he'd instantly known what the Colonel wanted. Had their positions been reversed, Sheppard would've wanted the same. But the simple, unchanging fact was that he'd executed his commanding officer.

John shook his head in frustration. Colonel Everett would love to hang him out to dry for this. No matter what he did, John would never be able to change that. So once again, a galaxy away, John found himself facing the same bullshit he thought he'd escaped. And if they all somehow survived this, he'd have to live with being under the command of a Colonel that believed he shot his commanding officer in cold blood.

Sheppard paused in the doorway, his gaze fixing on the Control chair. What the hell, he'd lived with the consequences of his actions before. In spite the situation, John chuckled slightly. Okay, he'd pulled the biggest retreat of his life, and went to Antarctica, but at least he hadn't left the military. Sheppard grabbed the wall momentarily and took a deep breath, his pounding heart slowing. This time there was no Antarctica to get away to…not that he'd leave Atlantis anyway. Despite Colonel Everett, this was his command, and he'd be damned if he was going to leave it for anyone.

Explosions in the distance pulled Sheppard back to reality. He ran forward and hastily sat in the Control Chair.

First, though…he'd have to save his city.

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_Author's Notes: _

_Everett's words in italics are taken directly from Siege II_


	3. Validation

_**Validation**_

_During The Siege_

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The infirmary doors closed behind him and John stopped in his tracks, raw emotion flowing through him. He glanced back at the closed doors, and pulled in a deep, level breath. John turned away, but the image of Colonel Everett followed him. A shadow of his former, vigorous self, Everett was debilitated…frail…old. In one attack, the Wraith had decimated the Marine Colonel…left him dying…

…stole his life.

Running a hand through his unruly hair, Sheppard stalked down the hallway back towards the control tower. He'd tried hard not to stare, to go on as if everything was fine. But deep down, he knew he'd been betrayed by his expression, his voice…and what he wasn't saying. Everett had seen it too, John was certain. The Colonel's knowing gazes left no room for doubt.

When he'd approached the infirmary, John had no idea what he'd face with the Colonel. Their last meeting hadn't ended under the best of conditions, and John knew in no uncertain terms exactly where he stood with Everett. John had expected it…he'd known it was coming. But to hear a commanding officer accuse him of killing his CO in cold blood…of not doing more…of not trying to save Sumner, cut John to the core. It gave voice and strength to that small whisper of doubt that had haunted his every step from the moment he pulled the trigger.

He'd never thought his decision to kill Sumner had been a mistake, but he'd be kidding himself if, every once in while, he didn't question that choice. Deep inside, a lingering doubt followed him. A small voice that said he should've done more…could've done more…could've saved Sumner…or at least tried instead of just shooting him. It was familiar…something he'd gotten used to having in the back of his mind, but it still irritated him, like an itch he couldn't get rid of, ever since he'd made that choice. John knew what he did was right, his moral direction wouldn't let him question it, but always, that whisper had been there. He was human, and carried that doubt in spite of himself.

_I want to finish our conversation…_

He'd been ready to face Everett's words…for the Colonel to berate John …to tell him what a failure he was as a soldier…accuse him of all but murdering Sumner. John had steeled himself…raised his defenses…put up his wall. It was impressive, really, his wall. As unorthodox as Sheppard was, he'd built one hell of a barrier to protect himself, when commanding officers came down on him for one reason or another. Usually, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, and he'd just stay quiet, nod his head, pay them lip service if he had to, and stay behind his wall. But, today in the infirmary, he hadn't been sure if his wall would be strong enough. He didn't know if he could keep quiet this time, but Everett didn't give him the chance to test that resolve.

_I owe you an apology…_

John's pace slowed. The Colonel's words had caught him off guard. It was the last thing he ever thought he'd hear from Everett.

I would've done the same thing that you did, when you found Colonel Sumner… 

That redemption…that validation by Everett meant more to Sheppard that Everett would ever know. It was like a giant weight was lifted from his shoulders. John hadn't known what to say. What could he say? I wish I'd been there too? I wish it didn't take this for you to see that what I did was right? I'm sorry? I'm sorry for you? Empty platitudes had tumbled from his mouth, but they were hollow. No words seemed appropriate.

Almost nothing seemed appropriate.

John paused and stood virtually still in the center of the deserted hallway. The salute had been almost instinctive….an impulse, and one John was glad he'd followed. Saluting wasn't his style, and if he could get away with it, something he never did. Too much pomp and ceremony for his taste, salutes were unnecessary in his eyes. He'd always believed that if you earned the respect of the officers under your command, you didn't need a salute to prove it, and that respect was earned through deeds, not through formalities. But at that point, when all else failed and no words seemed to fit, John somehow thought it was the right thing to do. To men like Everett, a salute meant something, and, in the end, that was all that mattered to John. Deep inside a strong surge of loyalty and respect had been kindled by the Colonel's words, and Sheppard wondered if all the time he had condemned Everett for misjudging who John Sheppard was, he hadn't been doing the same thing.

_I wish you'd been there for me…_

John pursed his lips and swallowed hard, fighting a renewed surge of emotion, as the Colonel's words echoed in his mind. He had no doubt Everett had hand picked every soldier that had come through the gate with him…but that hadn't been enough. John didn't know if he could've made a difference, or if he just would've ended up lying next to Everett in the infirmary, or just plain dead, but he found himself wishing he would've had the chance.

He dropped his head, sighing heavily. In the time he'd been in the Pegasus Galaxy, he'd seen more than his share of people attacked by Wraith. But worse, he'd seen people who were unlucky enough to survive. His thoughts lingered on Brendan Gaul...and now Colonel Everett. His mind raced. John valued life, cherished it...protected it when he could, and took it only when absolutely necessary. But with the Wraith, Sheppard found himself re-evaluating his beliefs, and that thought brought scant comfort to him. He'd watched, powerless, as Gaul painfully endured the devastation to his body from the Wraith, and now saw the tragedy and suffering in Everett's eyes. Faced with these facts, John was forced to acknowledge the conclusion they brought to him.

Surviving a Wraith attack was a fate worse than death.

Everett wished Sheppard would've been there. Not just to back the Colonel up, but because John had the stomach to pull the trigger...

A foreboding chill quickly raced through John and he pulled in a ragged breath. Torn, part of John was spooked by the thought…that faced with the same situation, he would've done the same thing. It was a value judgment that his strong moral sense had trouble accepting. John closed his eyes and shook his head slightly as he allowed himself a moment to think. Digging deep within himself, Sheppard tapped into his unwavering gut instinct. His gut said what he did was right, and in the end, he bowed to that decision. His intuition had been right too many times for him to turn away from it now. Sighing deeply, John opened his eyes and looked back towards the infirmary. "I wish I would've been there too, sir." He stared long and hard down the deserted hallway for a moment, before turning away. With a deep breath, he once again headed for the control tower.

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_Author's Notes:_

_All phrases in italics are taken directly from the Stargate Atlantis episode Siege III. I don't claim ownership to any of them!_

_This is the third chapter in a story surrounding the brief, but very compelling relationship between Colonel Dylan Everett; USMC, and Major John Sheppard; USAF. Sheppard carried the burden of Sumner through all of season 1, and the conflict and finally understanding he gained with Everett went a long way towards resolving that guilt within him...towards him finding validation for his actions. _

_Stargate and all of its associated characters and universes are definitely NOT mine (I WISH!) I just like to play here once in a while. ;)_

_SGAFan_


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